A Question Of Morality
by Shinsun
Summary: Obviously Goku is Saiyan. But he doesn't know exactly what that is until it is awoken full-force by the one he'd originally thought his enemy. But now that it's awake, this Saiyan side, he finds he is either much, much better off than he was before he truly knew who he was... or much, much worse. GXV of course, but a more morbid one than i'm used to writing.


A Question Of Morality

Chapter 1

How did it come to this?

Stupid question, that. I _know_ how it came to this. The better question would be _why_ didn't I do anything to stop it when I had the chance.

Oh, I tried. Believe me, I fought tooth and nail to try to banish the madness that now makes up so much of my brain that I can scarcely tell anymore which way is up. Yes, I resisted as my unwilling mind was dragged kicking and screaming into the depths of insanity by none other than my own hand. Fat lot of good it did me in the end.

But I'm getting ahead of myself; no story can be told end to beginning. So I suppose it's best that I start where this all began before I go as far as to explain the end.

X

I was always the hero.

Alright, that's not necessarily true. I was always _expected_ to be the hero. I always _played_ the hero. Was I? Truly? Honestly? Probably not.

Don't get me wrong, I did my fair share of protecting and defending and "saving" people. But did my quote-unquote "heroic" actions actually make me a hero? I doubt it. I killed. I spilled blood, I _murdered; _many times. Of course, those I destroyed were considered evil, and if I hadn't killed them they would have unleashed chaos on the universe, and would have enslaved the human race and other planets, yada, yada, yada, I've heard it all before.

Sure, stopping them from committing that universal conquest and destruction probably would have made me a hero. _If_ that was the end of it. If I didn't _enjoy_ it. If I didn't relish the devastation as much as they did. If the smell of blood didn't make my heart race with excitement, if the crunch of breaking bone wasn't music to my ears; if killing didn't make me feel this way. In other words, if I wasn't _Saiyan,_ then I might be the hero I was believed to be.

But, and it took me nigh on three decades to learn this, I _was_ Saiyan. And that wasn't something I or anyone else could change, much as they tried. As hard as they attempted to tame me, I was undeniably a wild creature. It was in my nature, even if I didn't allow that nature to surface for years and years while I completely and utterly _kidded_ myself.

When did I stop, you ask? When did I wake up and realize I'd been deluding myself and everything I thought I knew was a lie? Truth be told, I didn't. It wasn't something that I realized on my own. It was something I practically had screamed at me by the person I'd assumed my enemy for much of the time that I knew him. Vegeta. Of course. The prince all but _shook_ awake a part of me I didn't know if I wanted to acknowledge, and I'm not sure if I should have hated him for that or if I should have gotten down on my knees and thanked him a million times for so opening my eyes.

Not words. No, he awakened me with something much more powerful than petty words could measure up to. It was in the aftermath of a devastating spar that had left both of us battered and exhausted, the song of bloodshed and electrifying pull of muscle and contact of sweat-heated skin bringing us both to life and connecting us back to our primal roots... to the creature we were designed to be.

I wasn't very smart then. This I willingly admit. Alright, I was never as stupid as everyone I knew presumed I was, but I wasn't exactly brilliant at that time.

And Vegeta took full advantage of that. I expect you to assume he attacked me, or otherwise belittled me while I was so battle-weary and couldn't defend against it. Well, you'd be dead wrong there. He leaned across the space between us as I lay on my back, winded; some unknown emotion flickering in his eyes, a line of crimson blood still flowing freely from his forehead and down the bridge of his nose.

And then he lunged, and his lips met mine. I can't easily call it something as simple as a kiss, because there was something else about it. Something more animal. I could feel his velvet tongue lapping at a cut on my lower lip, tempting out a trickle of blood as he pressed our mouths more fully together. I could scarcely react. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react, but the taste of his bloody lips on mine caused something to stir in me, something I had as yet ignored but what should have been as natural as breathing. And I assaulted his mouth just as vigorously, only pausing when I felt something sharp nick my wandering tongue as I all but shoved it down his throat. I hesitated and explored the area, and found it to be a tooth. An elongated canine tooth. I didn't know anything about Saiyan teeth at the time, but looking back I couldn't deny the ache that was my own fangs trying to come forth, but I wouldn't allow them. I had suppressed this unconsciously for uncountable years, like so many other things.

And of course, being Vegeta, he did nothing halfway, and I was powerless to stop him as he seduced me in a way I was completely unfamiliar with. Of course, I wasn't powerless in body or mind, I could very well have told him to stop or forced him and there wouldn't be a damn thing he could do about it, but I couldn't make myself do that. I didn't _want_ him to stop. Even though the brush of tail fur and the prick of teeth was a foreign idea of courtship to me, I can't say it didn't stroke something in me the right way, making my now rousing Saiyan side roar its approval.

But as much as he was indeed my rival, he was my teacher for that time. It was as if his touch could explain a concept words alone could never bring justice to, and he could instruct me without so much as uttering a sound... not that he was silent, mind you. No, the possessive growls and groans of pleasure were by no means lost on me; I knew what he wanted. The question was... why? Or more accurately, why _now?_

By the time his wordless teachings had somewhat sunk in, I was growling as well, responding eagerly to this new and engaging experience that made everything I had ever been told and shown about sex and sexual contact pale and shuffle its feet in shame. And though the ground beneath me was rocky and jagged, I could not have been feeling more pleasure if I tried. I had never thought myself one to be particularly attracted to another male, but as the prince of all Saiyans was eradicating my already shredded and bloodstained battle gear from my painfully aroused and still battle-beaten body, promising his intent with sensual smirks and heated kisses, I was aware of silently begging him. Pleading him to take me, to show me, to _teach_ me.

And he did not disappoint. He was as ferocious in this conquest as he was in every battle we'd ever fought, and I reveled in it. In the mingling pain and pleasure roaring through me as I felt him penetrate into the deepest recesses of my body, where no one had ever ventured before. The taste of blood still strong on my lips, even stronger as I pressed them to a fresh wound still leaking on his shoulder, sucking the hot flow of red hungrily as he slammed into me again and again.

Gods, I loved this. Sweet merciful gods, I _loved_ this. Loved the chafing rocks digging into my back with every heavenly thrust as he picked up speed, loved the way the prince's regal face flushed and contorted with intensive pleasure. Pleasure _I_ was giving him. Loved the flash of his fully-lengthened fangs as he threw back his head and poured his essence into me with a low, rattling groan. Loved the sensation of my entire body tautening, every nerve on fire, as I followed his release with my own, screaming my completion to the world.

And I remember in the aftermath I looked at him and saw him as though for the first time. I saw something new and unique and beautiful that I had never even _thought_ to look for before now. And I remember asking him why. Why did he do this amazing thing for me?

And he just looked at me for a long time, an expression I have a difficult time putting into words scrawled onto his perfect visage.

"Because," he said, I swear I could be deaf to the world as long as I got to listen to that beautiful voice, it gave me chills, "You needed to know, Kakarot."

"Needed to know what?" I had asked. Breathless, I had sounded breathless.

"You needed to know who you are," he said, "Do you know now?"

I thought about it long and hard. I still think about it sometimes. I still wonder what exactly he had meant when he said that.

"Yes," I'd said in awe as I searched myself. Gods, had I been blind and deaf my entire life and was only now learning to _exist?_

The prince smirked knowingly and lay back against the rocks, folding his arms behind his head and looking up at the sky as it filled with stars.

"Good," he murmured, "That's good."

TBC

_((Different from my usual writing style in more ways than one. Gods, I'm turning into IceCamaro, help! I promise I won't be as cruel as her though, and I don't know how many chapters this story's going to have... I haven't planned for it much I just jumped right in._

_I'm a little unsure about this... and I beat myself up about this story pretty badly, just debating whether or not to toss it because it's pretty conflicted and intense and I don't know how well I can keep up with it._

_-Shinsun))_


End file.
